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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28962402">Series of Letters to Simon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNotPaulAvery/pseuds/ImNotPaulAvery'>ImNotPaulAvery</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lord of the Flies - William Golding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:49:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28962402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNotPaulAvery/pseuds/ImNotPaulAvery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>From Ralph, Piggy, and Jack</p><p>To: Simon</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ralph to Simon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Simon,<br/>
My mother used to tell me “Ralph, you are losing your temper. Go to your room and write it all out before you fight it out”. It might sound loony to you but I think it’s sound advice. It does help my temper, really. Now, this isn’t much of a letter as it’s little more than a few phrases etched onto a leaf using a twig and berry juice, but what can one do when stranded on an island? I haven’t made up my mind quite yet as to whether I should let you read this or not when you return, but I’m writing it for my sake. </p><p>	If I do let you read it, it’s because you are the most trusting boy on this island, and I like you better than Piggy anyhow. I’m at my absolute wit’s end. With Jack, with this island, with everything. Nothing has gone right since we crashed on this bloody pile of sand, well, since the war started really. But these last few days have been especially challenging. Not only has that bastard Merridew stolen my littluns, but he’s stolen my fire. Does no one understand how important it is that we keep that fire going? It’s our only chance at salvation! Jack’s a bully, Roger’s a psycho, Samneric are no help at all, Piggy’s a wimp and you’re batty!</p><p>	That was uncalled for. Now I definitely won’t let you read this. You’re a good person Simon, better than everyone here, even me. If anyone could come out of this unscaved. it’s you, and I mean it. If you weren’t here with me, I’d be the batty one. Imagine that, alone with only Jack and Piggy as company. </p><p>	 It’s nearly dark now, and you’ve yet to return. I hope you come back soon, I feel uneasy about this. </p><p>Your friend,<br/>
Ralph</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sometime after chapter 8</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Piggy to Simon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Simon,</p><p>	I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ve been sittin’ here in the dark for hours now, watching Ralph an’ Samneric sleep, the embers of the fire flickerin’ across their sun-burnt faces. I cannot fall asleep, I’m terrified that if I do, I’ll see your face. All bloodied and blue. I lied to Ralph. That were no accident tonight on the beach. I saw it. clear as day. </p><p>	I forced myself to believe that were an accident, that we was scared. Maybe that’s true, I dunno, but… whatever it was, it wasn’t supposed to happen. In the adventure books my auntie read to me, us boys banded together to face the dangers of the wilderness, but here it seems that we’re the true danger. Terrible things have happened here, with the Beast, with Jack, with you… We need to be rescued, desperately. We’ve already had deaths, what c  ould be worse? We’re as fragile as the conch right now.</p><p>	How could things have gotten this bad? Are we not English? Are we not proper and civilized? Must we resort to murder savagery? I miss my auntie so much, Simon, I miss my home. Now that you’re gone, that I’ve helped you in your…. departure, I can no longer ignore this gnawing feeling in my chest. I used to shrug it off as my asthma working up, but it’s not that, it’s worse than that. I hurt so much.,</p><p> </p><p>	I’m so, so very sorry. Forgive me, Simon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>after simon's death</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Jack to Simon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Simon,</p><p>	I don’t know how to start a letter like this. It’s been nearly a year since our... my rescue. I feel like I’m writing to a ghost, which I mean, I suppose I am in a way. I’ve been seeing a counselor for the past few months, as have the others from what I’ve heard. My counselor has brought me out of the fog, and back to reality. As of late, I finally feel like how I was... before. I’m writing this on orders from my counselor, to make amends to those I hurt, as it is part of my healing process. I’ve sent letters to most of the other boys, though none have written back. I don’t blame them. I had thought writing to Ralph or that fat little boy would be the worst, and it was for a while, until I sat down to type this out. </p><p>	To open up, I will recount the happenings of the past year in this letter. The war has been over for a couple of months. Britain was the victor, of course, and we remain the most dignified and sophisticated of all nations. I, as well as some of the other bigguns, have escaped criminal charges on account of our age and our “unfit mental state”. I was relieved at first, to feel that I was somehow less “criminal”, but there’s a part of me that hates that I came out unscathed. All though I will protest that I was not truly myself on the island, I cannot proclaim that I was innocent. </p><p>	I have yet to return to school, as I have still been deemed mentally unfit. I do not object to that statement. There are nights in which I wake in a cold sweat, a scream stuck in my throat, ready to put the end of my spear into the heart of a beast. I haven’t sung since the plane crashed, I have no love for it anymore. I have yet to send a letter to Roger, but I doubt I’ll do it. After this letter is typed out I’m ready to close this chapter of my life forever. I can’t live my life like that.</p><p>	God, Simon, I am so sorry. More than you could ever imagine. We were mates, even if you were loony and always throwing a fit. I was unkind to you when we were in the choir together, but you were always nice to me. I betrayed you. Not only betrayed I… I murdered you. I’ve never been able to admit it, not properly. I’m the one to blame for your death. Oh God, what I would do to turn back time and fix this stupid mess. I'm sorry.</p><p>Goodbye,<br/>
Jack Merridew</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A year later</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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